Short story - Pandora's box

Pandora's box

It was a peaceful night as the stars' lights glistened through the pale beige arch windows, like a river flowing down from the sky. Her body lay beautifully, covered with the finest of silks. The silk was pure white, like the girl herself, and the silk felt like she was lying in a cloud, the soft fabric leaving a tingling sensation on her skin. Her body shifted unconsciously, lifting her slightly from her deep slumber. The still silence broken by a soft-sounding wind, it had drifted through her room, guiding a desperate voice that was bouncing off the walls. Her ears pricked with familiarity, as she knew the voices all too well. The girl's thoughts could not quite grasp what the voice said, but it was enticing. She slowly arose from her ceramic bed frame, slipping her feet into her slippers. The cool dusk air pricked her skin, causing goosebumps to arise. She pulled her nightgown around her, trapping the last warmth of her skin under the thick nightgown. The soft-spoken voices faded and seemed to be drifting out of the room, pulling her with it.

She reached the door and shifted it, she slipped through the small gap, between the door and the arch. The girl wandered her eyes, viewing both ends of the long hallways, before stepping fully out of her quarters. The hallway lay still, lit up by dim candles that hang on the walls and the moonlight pouring through the arches. The only sound stirring the hallways was the voices. The girl wandered through the grand halls of the palace, the moon shining through graceful arches, she was encased in the moonlight, if someone were to see her they might think she were a ghost. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hall, following the voices; she was in a trance of curiosity. The voices seemed to be growing in volume as she crept closer to a large oak wood door.

The girl pushed the heavy door open, revealing a small column stand which shelved the old box. She stepped forward into the light of the moon and stared at the box with glazed eyes. Ignoring the ghostly sounds, she brushed her fingertips against the box, tracing the mythical symbols carved into the old rustic wood. The box felt cold; it felt that if she pushed a little harder with her fingers, she might get a small, sharp splinter. She thought of it like a warning from the gods. Her eyelids squeezed shut as her memories started replaying in her mind. "My gift to you is the gift of curiosity," Hera said sweetly, "The last gift you shall receive is a box", " Never ever open the box," Herme's voice echoed. She threw open her eyes when the box shuffled, almost falling off the small column, she reached out her hands to stop it and pushed the box down, forcing it to stop moving. She lowered herself closer to the box, the deafening noises made her body shift uncomfortably. The girl leaned her ear closer, her eardrums shaking, she listened, trying to determine what the voices were saying. Her mind could not grasp what had been placed in the box that shall not be seen by her eyes. She visualised the possibilities, but her mind could not believe her imagination. She thought that if she could only take a peek through a small crack, then she could leave it alone and her mind could rest from the constant thoughts and the restless nights. Her ears now ring from the powerful sounds, causing her to lose her thoughts. She collected her mind, deciding to retrieve her decision in her quarters, where the noise would only be above a whisper.

Turning away from the box, the voices grew with anger. She tumbled backward, grasping her ears, trying to block out the piercing screams calling her name, she thought her eardrums might combust. The voices trapped her in a bubble, she tried pulling herself to the door that was only open by a crack, she murmured pleading words for someone, anyone to help her. The box crashed to the floor, almost following her every move. She couldn't handle it anymore, she released her hands from her ears. The loud screams piercing her eardrums and going through her brain. It felt like her brain was being stabbed millions of times by tiny spears. She had to relieve herself of this burden, she reached out and grabbed the box violently, lifting the latch and throwing the lid of the box open, as soon as she opened the box, regret flowed through her.